


The Power of Dragneto Compels You

by dramady, jeck



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Drag, M/M, caddy cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing Michael in drag has a domino effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Dragneto Compels You

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: PWP, really. Not much more to it than that XD Based on the [Fassy-in-drag Deleted Scene](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNVy541sHXs)
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

It wasn't until after the scene had wrapped that James had a chance to _truly_ appreciate the wonder that was Michael Fassbender in drag. The wig. The dress, the go-go boots. Really, as the scene was broken down around them, James just looked. And yes, he laughed.

"The color," he giggled, touching a lock of the red wig. "You said you were ginger. I didn't imagine you being _this_ ginger."

Michael bobbed his head a bit, then tossed his hair with a hand before posing, a hand resting on his jutted hip. "Admit it, darling. You find this ginger absolutely attractive." He grinned at James, wide and toothy.

"You know me too well," James rejoined, grinning just as widely. He offered Michael his arm. "Those boots, too. How _did_ you know I have a fetish for such things?"

"I didn't know," Michael smiled demurely as he could and then hooked his arm in James's. "But I am extremely pleased you approve."

When Michael moved, his hips swayed, bumping against James's. "You can have a closer look once we get to wardrobe." He fluttered his long, mascara'd lashes, grinning wider.

"Oooh."

Once the door to the dressing room was closed, James let go of Michael's arm to give him a more frank once-over. "After great debate, I have to say I think you have better legs than January." Though perhaps not better than Zoe. That didn't need to be stated, however.

"Why thank you, darling," Michael grinned and then he lifted his booted leg up to prop one foot on the edge of the make-up table. It gave James a great view of said legs. "Touch them," Michael coaxed, his own hand running slowly upward only to stop just inside the short dress and hiking the skirt up a teasing smidgen. "The fishnets are rough and silky ... You might enjoy them."

Michael always did know how to play just this side of dirty. It was part of his appeal. James walked over, shrugging off his blazer in the process and sending it sliding over a chairback. Then he stood between Michael's legs and ran his hand along the raised one.

The fishnets were both rough and smooth over warm skin and corded muscle. James looked up at Michael, still in that ridiculous wig. He had to grin as his hand kept traveling from calf to knee to thigh.

There was a depth and hunger in Michael's eyes when he stared back at James. "Sexy," Michael said. Whether he meant James or what James was doing, or even what James thought of him in that ridiculous red wig was hard to decipher. James would feel the muscles under his hand flex, see Michael's hips gently rock while the dress caught the light and it sparkled. "Do you like it darling? Do you like me in a dress?" And again, Michael tossed his head back, long, dark lashes fanning slowly and the dangling sequins in the dress made this dull jingling sound.

"It sets off your shoulders nicely," James admitted, lightly, eyes dragging up Michael's body slowly, even as his hand wandered under the hem of that dress, where the skin was warmer. Then he looked Michael in the eye. "You're quite fetching."

"I heard some say I make a horrible woman but I say I make an absolutely charming drag queen." He still had his leg up with James's hand up his skirt but Michael still managed to shift his weight so that his hip rolled slowly, invitingly. He waved one hand in the air and the other caught James's wrist, pushing it up higher on the inside of his thigh. "What do you think, luv? Do you like the idea of _this_ …?"

Well, when James had his hand curved around Michael's growing erection, he was in no position to argue. He squeezed. "I have to agree with your assessment. Not a pretty woman, but a truly remarkable drag queen."

"Dragneto ..." Michael said slowly, grinning wide at James, trying not to moan - or laugh. It would be a shame to ruin the wonderful illusion their wardrobe and make-up department had painstakingly made. "I'm unique. I'm the only one of my kind." His voice came out tight, his hips pressing his cock in James's hand.

"Indeed." James squeezed again, his grin going crooked. "What should I do with you, Dragneto?" There were two layers separating his hand and Michael's skin. "Tell me. Are you going to keep the wig? Or, more importantly, this lovely frock?"

"Do you think I can get away with it?" Michael asked, his voice becoming stuttered, his breathing deep, uneven, and his eyes would flutter as he spoke while looking directly at James. "The boots as well?" They were lovely boots that accentuated his legs.

"Why not? If you ask, they'll be scandalized enough to go silent and you can take that as agreement and leave." The stockings needed to go. With a curled lip, James urged Michael's leg down put both hands up under the skirt to yank the fishnets down. "Now," he said, grinning. "What will we find?" Panties? Nothing?

The answer came quickly, when James's hand was free to touch without the roughness of the fishnets. Unable to see, he'd feel the silkiness of the fabric and then the small amount of lace, all barely covering Michael's erection.

"You are a kinky boy," James all but purred. Or Michael was a method actor. James didn't much care either way. His fingers curled around the lace and he pulled those down too which left Michael with stockings and panties around his thighs. James pushed him so that he was leaning against the make up counter and then with just a look, slid to his knees and ducked his head under the sequined skirt.

Michael felt hot breath, then an even hotter mouth.

A tight, garbled sound left Michael's lips and his hand James felt cup the back of his head. He wasn't urging, he wasn't demanding, it just rested there while Michael's own head fell back and he was moaning. "Ah, that's brilliant, James … brilliant …" Michael began to rock his hips, the skirt swishing slowly against Michael's thighs.

The movement was slow and rhythmic, James's head bobbing. Gradually he added a hand, fingers used to tease Michael's balls, stroke what wasn't in his mouth. He'd not had a terrible lot of practice giving blowjobs, but he was enthusiastic.

From the sounds Michael made, it seemed he wasn't too keen on technique himself. Michael moved his one leg forward, almost hooked to James's shoulder, the knee-high boots were pressed to his back. "James --!" James would feel how Michael was getting too close to climax, his hand on the back of James's head moving to pull the skirt away, looking down, watching the way James moved over Michael's cock.

James tightened his hand, sucked harder, moved faster, his mouth watering with the tang of precome on the back of his throat. He flicked his eyes up, trying to catch Michael's expression but didn't stop moving.

It was when James met Michael's eyes that Michael started to tremble, grabbing on to James's shoulders to keep his balance. Then Michael was coming, his eyes anchored with James and he didn't look away even as he spilled warmly deep in James's mouth.

After swallowing, James pulled back, using the side of his hand to wipe at his mouth. He stayed on his knees for a moment before levering to his feet. Barely looking away from Michael's eyes, he pulled the panties back up, then the stockings, then smoothed the skirt down his thighs. And he grinned.

Michael smiled back, swaying a bit before he caught hold of James's hips and leaned against him, still in that red wig and deep red lips. He reached out and touched James's cheek, one finger sliding down to his lips touching the smugness there. "Dragneto put you on your knees, luv."

"The power of Dragneto was hard to resist. I couldn't finger myself and make it go away," James replied, chuckling. "So. Are you going to keep it?" He caught the strap of the dress between his fingers.

Michael slowly shrugged his shoulders, the dress shifting where James had held it. "I don't know, darling …" The way he said the endearment was sultry, low and whispered as he stared right into James's eyes. "It depends on how much _you_ like it." Then Michael's hand slid down James's body, feeling the flex of muscle as his palm moved lower. It settled between James's legs, cupping his cock, stroking over the material of his trousers and it made Michael's grin brighten.

James' eyelids dipped and he dropped a hand on Michael's arm. "I like it. Very much." And so did his body; his cock twitched to the touch. "Darling." It came out breathy and tight. "But I'd ask you to make it so that I don't come in my trousers."

Michael's hands were deft when they began to free James of his clothes. The belt, the zipper, then Michael was pushing them down along with James's boxers. Once he had his hand around James's cock he whispered by his ear. "I see you like it a lot. I think I should keep it." James's cock was warm and thick and _hard_ and Michael began to stroke him, the pace tight but slow. "Maybe later you'll wear it for me, hmm, luv?"

His hand fisting around the strap of Michael's dress, James swayed with the movement of Michael's hand. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, his cheeks staining pink. He licked slow over his lower lip. "... perhaps."

James would feel the way Michael's arm slid around him, steadying him by pulling him to press against his lean body. The strokes quickened, then Michael dipped his head down and he took James's lips in a heated kiss.

Loose arms looped around his neck and James held on, kissing back. He was moving almost like a rag doll, limp except where it mattered most. He panted against Michael's mouth. "Christ."

"It's your turn, my darling James." Michael said slowly, his voice breathy against James's cheek when he spoke. But then they were kissing again, deeper, more intense, tangling their tongues while his hand moved more demandingly.

His limp body tightening as his orgasm drew near, James hissed out a sound between clenched teeth. Then he was coming, pulsing hot in Michael's grip.

The kiss was released and James could breathe easier but Michael stayed close and he held him to his chest while he stroked him to completion. "You're lovely, James," Michael whispered, his lips pressed to James's temple. "... lovely …"

"And I'm not even wearing the frock." James's grin was lazy, crooked, sated. "... we should change. Go back to the hotel." Where, were he to have his way, a large bathtub awaited them both.

"Aye," Michael agreed because that meant they had more time to spend together - alone. James was gently guided to lean against the make-up table and then it was Michael who sought out a way to clean them both up.

When it was time to get changed, Michael was in the middle of the room, amused and teasing eyes on James while Michael slowly stripped off the dress to change back into his own.

"I shall miss Dragneto," he grinned while shoving the dress and everything else that came with deep inside his duffel bag.

"Not for long, apparently," James chuckled. "Since you seem to be nicking it all." He was back in jeans and a t-shirt soon enough. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded toward the door.

Michael would know what that meant. A race to the golf carts which made Michael's brow rise. His lips soon followed, smiling as he tightened his hold on his bag.

Who knew who took off first. It seemed they were even when they both barrelled out of the room and toward the parking lot. It was only the last few steps that Michael and his large haul began to fall back.

"Ha - _HA!_ " James crowed as he slid into the driver's seat. Michael was barely in before James was flooring it, quick to reach the maximum speed of thirteen miles per hour as Michael hung off the side of the cart for each turn.

It happened so fast. Michael found himself catapulted from the rear of the cart only to land on the driver's side. He was calling after James, head whipping around, the grin disappearing and replaced with an expression that was both concerned and worried.

He was _fine_. James was ready to say that, when everyone came rushing over. He'd not even _seen_ the car, and surely had not meant to careen into it. And just when it seemed Michael was going to be saddled with the blame, well, he skulked off.

Bugger.

Later, in the hotel room, James looked up from examining Michael's calf. "I do think you'll live. But I'll never trust you again, leaving me to take the blame when clearly, it was your fault."

Michael's jaw dropped and he was glaring at James. "My fault? _You_ were driving!" He pointed a long, slender finger on James's chest. "Now I have to pay for damages and I have a wound that would surely scar my leg. It would no longer look good in that dress, darling."

"It will be covered by the fishnets or the boots, _darling_." James batted at the poking finger. He leaned back on his haunches and only managed to stay stern for a moment, before he was laughing. "I've no earthly idea how you ended up in the driver's seat. It was insane."

Michael laughed as well. "I flew in the air and landed there." He grinned his wide, toothy grin while reaching for James's wrist, fingers curling around it. "If I would take a guess, I would say that you had that all planned ... get me into trouble because Dragneto put you on your knees."

"Ah, you've seen through me." James let himself be pulled to his feet where he stood looking at Michael and grinning. "It was quite elaborate what I did. We'll never be allowed to drive the caddy cars again. You realize this."

"Aye. We'll be known as troublemakers now." Though the expression on Michael's face said he hardy minded. He pulled James closer, then whispered, "whatever shall we do for entertainment now ... hmm?"

"You're bruised. I want to take a bath," James said, already turning toward the bathroom. "A great, hot, deep bath." With bubbles. He was a fan of bubbles. He started the water still fully clothed.

"Well, that's surely entertaining." James heard Michael mumble this under his breath while staring down his (clothed) body. Very slowly Michael began to strip off his clothes then he approached James and was tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it off. "Brilliant idea." James was always the mastermind of such things.

He was! He was brilliant. Turning with a smile, after the bubbles were poured, of course, James raised his arms and let Michael strip off his shirt. He returned the favor, then, letting Michael's shirt fall to the floor (away from the tub - lessons learned after all).

They were so physically different and it seemed from the way Michael was touching James, he reveled in that fact. Michael stared into James's eyes as his hands moved slowly over his chest, down his hip then back to just the curve of his arse, squeezing before letting go.

"After you, my darling …" Grinning, Michael offered his hand so that James could step into the tub.

"Ah, thank you, darling." James stepped in and waited for Michael to do the same before they settled, him in front, leaning back against Michael's chest. The sound he made as the warm water rose around him was low and satisfied.

"Ah, yes. Brilliant." Michael said this with his lips pressed to the nape of James's neck. "So many good things come out of you fingering yourself, luv." His fingers waggled along James's temple, pulling a laugh from him.

"Good things always come from that," James retorted, turning his head to look up at him. He caught Michael's hands and kissed his fingertips. "How's your shin, mm?"

"Much better than my pride." Michael, after all, was blamed for the cart mishap. He was intently watching James kiss his fingers and his smile slowly grew. "... But not better than the rest of me." Which, from Michael's expression was feeling wonderful.

The growing hardness against James's back was a good indication as well. He faced front again, content to lie there for a while and let the arousal grow. They could talk then about little things, minutia, letting that disguise the way they both were feeling.

But about twenty minutes later, there was no ignoring it - not that they wanted to. James tilted his chin up to kiss Michael again.

It was tender, slow, leisurely. They took their time and then Michael's hand lifted from the water, warm as he caressed James's cheek, deepening the kiss.

"James …" Michael whispered, his eyes closed, his lips still pressed to James, his other arm wrapped around his waist and pulling him over Michael's lap.

Turning around in the water, sending some sloshing over the side, James arched his back, pressing close to Michael along the lengths of their bodies as they kissed. Every time one of them moved, their hips shifted; he groaned.

It was a good thing the tub was big enough to hold them both and it was better to maneuver because that was what they both did -- shifting, moving languidly as they buoyed in the water. Bubbles surrounded them, and it made it hard to see their bodies but it surely intensified what they both, obviously felt.

"I want you, James ..." Michael whispered, his lashes fanning down as he closed his eyes after he'd touched his lips with Michael's again. And his hands -- they slipped between them, palming James's erection under the warm, sudsy water.

"I want you too," James whispered in return, the words breathed into Michael's mouth. A little shifting and James was straddling Michael's hips. He could feel the erection against his ass. Bubbles were no good as a lubricant. This they'd learned too (not that it had stopped them). But he didn't want to leave the bath, not just yet.

Michael lifted a brow and he gave James a crooked smile while grabbing on his hip with one hand, the other on his erection, guiding. "Slowly, darling," he said gently, and as soon as James was sinking down on Michael, Michael's head fell back and he released a deep moan.

James gritted his teeth against the burn. He let his forehead rest against Michael's temple as they worked together, deeper. "It's … fuck."

"Mmh, yesss," Michael hissed the word, slowly blinking his eyes open to carefully regard James's expression while obviously struggling trying to maintain his. "Ah, God ... you feel so good. A little more - deeper, darling." Michael's body under James was already trembling.

Making a low, tight sound, James pushed, bearing down until Michael was fully seated. He opened his eyes even if they were heavy-lidded, his cock hard against Michael's belly. "Fuck," he whispered before taking Michael's mouth in a kiss.

The kiss was more intense, more heated this time. James could feel the way Michael's hands slid lower to cup his ass while he rocked his hips, thrusting shallowly. Michael moaned into the kiss, using his hold for leverage to pull James up then push him back down, slow and undulating.

Unable to hold back the chuckle, James whispered into Michael's mouth, "this is one way to ensure I'm clean." Really, it was a totally inappropriate thing to say amidst sex, but he couldn't help himself.

"You're such a dirty man, James." Which James would know was part of why Michael was here with him. Then James could feel the way Michael slipped a hand lower, to where they were joined, his finger right there feeling each stroke, each time James rose and sank with Michael deep inside him. "Dirty," Michael gasped, "dirty … man …"

"Fuck," James hisses, moving harder, a little faster now that something - he didn't give thought to what - made the slide easier. He kept his forehead to Michael's temple as water started sloshing over the side of the tub.

The sounds from Michael's lips got louder, the pleasure evident in the way he moaned. He moved slowly, bending his knees, pushing James closer to his chest while he continued to lift and push James down over Michael's hardness. "You're making a mess," he teased, narrowed, lust-filled eyes on James.

"I'm making a mess?" James laughed breathlessly. "I'm not the one who's moving me around." Each movement felt better, making his body tingle. He led one of Michael's hand to his cock, circling it to stroke.

"Aye ..." Michael's fingers tightened around James's cock. "Keep 'er there. Show me how you like it, hmm?" Michael stopped moving his hand so that James could take that control over.

Circling his hand around Michael's, James started moving, faster each time, sending water cascading over the side of the tub with increasing volume. "You're going to - I'm - I'm going to - "

More water splashed down the side of the tub and in to the floor when Michael began thrusting up. James was held with an arm looped around his middle while Michael panted and pumped his fist with James. He began to whisper urging words to coax the climax out of James. Words like, "come for me, darling. Look at me. I want to see your face when you come ..."

With what felt like a supreme effort, James pulled his head back to look at Michael. He was flushed, sweating, and the only sound he made when he came was a sharp exhalation before he caught his lower lip between his teeth, eyes closing and his head falling back.

"Gorgeous …" Michael whispered this with his voice tight from the pleasure and the added arousal from watching James give in to his orgasm. There was a tension in Michael's shoulders and it tightened his jaw but his eyes never left James's face when he suddenly gave a deep and low grunt, thrusting up hard and deep; he was coming, too.

Letting his head fall forward, James rested his forehead against Michael's. They'd made a mess once again; he was sleepy now, sated. That and his knees were killing him. "... right," he whispered, pulling free with a groan and staggering to his feet. "Bed, darling."

Michael looked a little dazed once he managed to get to his feet as well. The tub was drained quickly and then there was a quick rub-down with a towel that was tossed somewhere on the floor.

In bed, they were once again tangled under the covers, bodies cooling while they both laid there quietly whispering to each other.

"Maybe we should make a deal," Michael murmured softly against the side of James's neck where his lips were currently placed. "I shall not wear that ridiculous wig and that dress and you--" Michael pulled back and poked his finger on James's chest. "... will never drive a caddy car ever again."

"Ah, but where's the fun in life?" James' smile was crooked and sleepy, pressed to the crux of Michael's neck. "And I like you in the fishnets." Caddy cars, well, he could live without driving one.

"I think we've had too much fun in making this movie." Michael stated, his fingers sliding gently back and forth over James's arm. "It would be a shame to stop your from your superb caddy car driving …" Michael turned his head and pressed his lips to James's forehead and James would feel the smile on his lips.

"It was brilliant. Your counterbalancing was remarkable," James replied, voice quieting, getting muzzy with sleep. "I imagine what we did was record-setting in some way." His eyes were closed, body relaxed against Michael's.

"Aye. I think everything we do has been record-setting." James body had turned slack, sleepy. But then he would feel the way Michael's lips pressed against his forehead and then he would hear the quiet timbre of his voice when he whispered, "goodnight, darling. Have sweet, dirty dreams."

The next morning, James would wake up to an empty bed and empty room but the sharp scent of coffee would be drifting in the air. Michael had an early call and had to leave but he did so while leaving James an ordered breakfast, and a note.

The note was attached to the the dress and all that came with were placed neatly on a chair - the panties and fishnets included.

 _Payback is a bitch._

 _I dare you to wear this later to make up for my caddy car injury._

 _I think we may have found our entertainment._

 _Love,  
M_

Perhaps even from where he was, Michael could hear James laugh.


End file.
